


The Way I Like It.

by erwiiinsmith



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Cute, Domestic, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 14:46:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11580234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erwiiinsmith/pseuds/erwiiinsmith
Summary: A short about Dennis helping Mac slick back his hair one ordinary morning.(The reason Mac likes to do his hair like this).





	The Way I Like It.

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by this tumblr post:  
> http://gaylecooper.tumblr.com/post/163177060105/dennis-vocally-criticises-pretty-much-every-aspect

“And just a bit mooore,” Mac quietly uttered. His fingers felt sticky with the final dollop of gel, and he expertly applied it to his rather glossy head. The light bulb from above shone down so hard it almost looked like he’d bejewelled his hair. Beside him stood his stack of shame, seven different pots of gel all of which decreased in price the higher up the pile they stood. He’d quickly discovered that it didn’t matter how expensive something was, if you were going to use an entire tub on your head, you could save some pennies.  
Three angry but firm knocks came from the door, making him yelp a little. “Dude, you’ve been in there for ten minutes. Some of us have a routine!”

With a twist of his arms, Mac made a move that only he could describe as bad-ass and managed to open the door without getting his gluey hands all over the handle. He pushed it open to reveal Dennis, who looked his usual primped and preened self. He was wearing a blue shirt again and smelt vaguely of peaches or some other fruit, Mac couldn’t really tell. The other man motioned to move in but Mac stood his ground so that Dennis would have to brush past. He revelled in the little victories. Silently, the man in blue reached to the side of bathroom and produced a small white tub of what could only be his mousse. It looked expensive and smelt it too. Mac wondered what it cost and what was in it. He silently decided it definitely contained flakes of gold since Dennis had been talking about those. At that point there was nothing that could surprise him. Once Charlie joked about Dennis using a moisturiser that had pigeon shit in it and they were then forced to listen to a 20 minute lecture about how it was once a prominent part of Japanese culture.  
In the oddly-comfortable silence, Mac watched as Dennis expertly dabbed some of the mousse on his fingers and ran them through his hair, taking the time to pull on particular curls so that they seemed even bouncier. It was only when he had finished pulling on the curl that fell onto his forehead that he realised he was being watched? “Can I-“

As Dennis moved, he swung an arm to the side that sent the pile of gel pots crashing to the ground. They clattered in an awkward symphony, three of them narrowly missing the clutches of the toilet bowl. The two of them only stared at the mess for a moment. “What the fuck dude?”

“Listen Dennis, you know that I cannot attain this level of style without the help of some products.”

“It’s not the products I have a problem with, it’s the number. Did you use all of those today?”

“Oh, ha no.”

“Good.”

“I used them all over the week.”

“…a week? A _WEEK_? You have the _AUDACITY_ to let me pay for everything and claim you are saving up for important things but instead you’re buying hair gel for that…MESS.”

“Mess? Dude this is prime-“

“It’s shit.”

Without another word, Dennis slunk out of the bathroom, muttering to himself. Mac was honestly surprised, he’d been gelling his hair for some time now, he’d have suspected Dennis had seen various growing piles. _“De-NN-iiii-sss_ ,” he finally whined as he followed him to the living room. He stood a little bit away for a few moments, watching as Dennis continued to breathe out heavily. 

“At least let me fix it.”

“Fix…what?”

“Your hair,” Dennis sighed. “If you’re going to look like an idiot, you’ll do it with a certain gravitas. You’re representing Paddy’s Pub after all. Go wash that all out.”

He disappeared for a moment and returned with a black tray that held various combs, pot, sprays and even a set of straighteners. Without a word, he pulled over a small table and rolled out a mirror before motioning for Mac to sit on the ground. As he sat, Mac noticed that the mirror was angled more towards Dennis than it was to him but he wasn’t going to complain. His hair was still a little wet from his quick splash under the sink. Unsurprisingly the gel was easy to remove and his hair felt like it could breathe a little. As he sat, he let Dennis give him a quick towel dry before saying anything. He’d been lost in reverie just listening to the other man breathing so close to him. 

“What’s wrong with my hair?”

“It looks better when you leave it alone,” Dennis curtly responded. “Makes your cheekbones look more angular.” 

“Really?” Dennis made a quiet mumble before combing the hair and using a spray. It smelt of soap and coconuts. The scent tingled Mac’s nose. He tried to keep up with what Dennis was doing but after three more products he didn’t see the point. He’d never be able to buy all the stuff being used and he doubted Dennis would willingly do his hair every day. “I guess I’ll leave it au natural-ey tomorrow.”

“It’s au naturel.” 

“That’s what I said.”

Dennis lifted a spray bottle and started to comb different segments and then spray each with care. It smelt like Dennis, sharp and a little bit sweet. “So why do you even do your hair like this?”

Mac didn’t respond. He and Dennis were not ones for deep conversations about emotions. The last time they’d talked about feelings was when Dennis had walked in with what looked like mascara running down his cheek. He was drunk and crying, saying something about Dee. Mac never brought it up. “My dad used to do his hair like this,” he finally spoke, breaking the silence. “I guess I miss him.”

“Why he’s a-“

“A what?”

Dennis said nothing, but Mac could fill in the blanks. The others had said enough about his dad before, he didn’t mind. In their own way he knew they cared. A few more minutes past, Mac swore he could see Dennis smile from time to time and he stiffened each time, not wanting to ruin the moment. At one point Dennis got up and returned with two glasses half-filled with a brown liquid, “Here,” he curtly said handing one over to Mac. 

“What is it?”

“Whiskey.”

“What’s it for.”

“Well I like to drink it.”

It was 8:53am, the perfect time for a drink. 

Finally they were done, signalled by a firm clap on Mac’s back. Dennis said something but Mac wasn’t listening, he was too focused on looking at himself in the mirror. He really didn’t look different. Sure, he smelt a little better and his hair felt a little lighter but that was it? He thanked Dennis all the same and helped with the quick clean-up before heading for the door. 

“I changed my mind.”

“About what?”

“Your hair does look good like that. Put some effort in and I deem it acceptable.”

“But I thought you-“

Dennis left before he could finish the sentence.  
Mac followed after a beat.  
They went to work.


End file.
